The House
by Phoenix Bradley
Summary: Complete! Same idea as the Grudge, but changed so it will work. Hermione learns of an old myth that whenever someone dies in the grip of extreme anger or pain they leave behind a curse. Now that she's in its grip, she can't get out...
1. The House

The House

by, Smeagol's girl

(Same storyline as the movie, The Grudge, but altered a little to make it work. Yes, I know, I should come up w/ my own original ideas... yadda yadda..., but I like to combine horror movies w/ Harry Potter on Halloween (i know it's the day after, but that's beside the point...). It's a strange sort of tradition of mine. No, not all my fics are like this so if you can't stand these then read something else. Rated PG-13 for descriptive violence, launguage, upcoming character deaths, and horror sequences. I own nothing.)

Ginny walked down the sidewalk with a smile on her face. Summertime was always so beautiful in London. She was thankful everyday that her job allowed her to walk this way so she could admire the muggles as they went about their days. In a month and a half she'd be starting her seventh year at Hogwarts. Even though Ron, Harry, and Hermione had all graduated already she was still in contact with them quite often. In fact, Hermione had gotten the same summer job as she had, so they were able to talk in the office everynight, and they'd have more time together before she had to go to college. Hermione had become one of her closest friends over the years, and loosing her would be hard.

Ginny stopped in front of the right house and looked it up and down with a shudder. When she had first started as a nanny for old people while the other people in the house were at work, she never once thought she'd have to work in a house like this one. It was old and rundown. The owner had just moved in with his wife from the states, bringing along with them his mother, who was in her late sixties and suffering from some form of dementia. Tending to her was not what bothered Ginny. The poor old lady slept through the day and when she was awake, never spoke but talked through writing things down on paper. She never fought Ginny when she had to give her a sponge bath, or when she had to give her her medication (an injection once a day), but simply sat there and did as she was told. A bad day for her only envolved telling her repeatedly to do something until Ginny went horse or gave up, but that was rare.

No, it was not the old lady, though the way she stared at you for minutes without blinking very much would give you the chills after a while. It was just the house itself. It always seemed dark and cold, it smelled strange to her, and she spent most of the time wondering when the owners would call the police and report a poltergeist. She'd have ignored her instincts, if only she didn't spot the owner's wife shudder everytime she stepped in.

Taking in a slow breath, Ginny walked slowly up the stone steps and came to the door, opening it silently. The owner and his wife had already left, as usual, and the old woman, Hannah was her name, lay on her sofa bed, sound asleep. Ginny walked over to her slowly, and gently woke her to give her her medication. Hannah's eyes shot open and darted up to look at Ginny. Ginny smiled warmly at her. "Hello, Hannah," she said softly. "Do you remember me? Ginny?" There was no response, and Ginny quickly gave her the shot and allowed her to go back to sleep.

Pulling out the vaccum, she proceeded down the halls, picking up the crumpled pieces of paper that seemed to be scattered about regularly, and she walked up the stairs, deciding to vaccum it first and get it over with. The upstairs was always dark and freezing. She hated it everytime she had to go there, breathing in the foul air and shutting her eyes every so often to calm herself. How could the family want this house? It was dark, terrifying, and so damn cold. If she had to do this one more time she'd quit. But that's what she always told herself, and yet this was day three of working here. The family had already lived there for about a month, and she was the fourth person to come work there. All the others had left and nearly shouted to their boss, "Find someone else because I can't stand the place!"

She walked down the hallway, trying to clear her head of these things and just focuse on cleaning the place, when something breezed past her. Her feet seemed to stop altogether and she stood still, the hairs on the back of her neck rising and goosebumps forming. Turning around slowly, she went back to the door and pressed her ear against it. There came a soft noise that steadily grew louder until she could recognize it. A meow. The family never said anything of owning a cat.

Ginny ran down the stairs and picked up the phone, dialing her boss' number quickly. Silence...

Click! "Hello?"

"Hello, is Richard there?" she asked.

"Ginny, is that you?" came his voice. "Didn't get locked out did you?"

"Uh, no, sir. I got in just fine."

"What's the problem then? Is Hannah giving you trouble?"

"Actually, she just went to sleep. I was just wondering... did her son ever mention if they owned a cat?"

There was a pause. "Not that I know of... why?"

"There's a cat in here and I want to make sure it's not theirs before I put it outside."

"What does it look like?"

"Hold on," muttered Ginny. Biting her lip, she opened the door and stepped into the empty room quietly. A dark shadow scurried to the corner, and she blinked, making it dissapear once her eyes opened again. A chill ran down her spine, and she turned to the closet. Something inside was scratching on the door, and the meowing grew louder. Sympathy siezed her, but not as strong as the fear she still had. She reached out and threw the closet door open. There was a wooden box that stood about three feet up, and sitting on it was a black cat with big blue eyes. Ginny snickered to herself, realizing she had been stupid to be afraid, and she placed the phone to her ear again.

"It's a black cat," she said softly. "And a cute one too," she added reaching out to pet it. The cat hissed and clawed her, quickly jumping off the box and running out the door and down the stairs.

"I've got Hermione calling them up right now. Hold on just one minute..." Ginny leaned against the wall and waited patiently. Whenever fear started to lurk up on her, she forced herself to think of the cat's cute little face when she opened the door, and the fear slowly melted away, but never fully. "Ginny?"

She jumped and held the phone to her ear again. "Yes?"

"Hermione says they don't own a cat, so feel free to send it out." Ginny nodded.

"Alright, I will. Perhaps I'll drop it by the humane society on my way home. Thanks for telling me."

"No problem. They should be home by six tonight. If they aren't you've been given permission to go home by then."

"Alright. Thank you. G'bye." She hung up and reached over to close the closet door. Something caught her eye. A light seemed to be shining down on the box, and she glanced up, noticing for the first time the entry to the attic. There was no door, but instead a board placed over it so she could simply push it to the side to get in. It already had been pushed over enough so the cat could've come in. A thought came to her mind, and she decided to go up there to see if she could find how the cat got in, in the first place.

Reaching up, she gently slid it away, half expecting to find a face staring down at her. There was nothing, and she climbed onto the box, raising herself very slowly until she could peak out into the attic. There was a strong musty smell, and it was almost completely dark in there. It was deserted, which gave her a small sense of relief as she climbed up into it. Fumbling around in her pocket, she pulled out a lighter and clicked it on, holding it in front of her as she looked around. There were no holes, no possible entry way for the cat, and she began to wonder if the previous owner had left it there by mistake. She turned and held the lighter out a little further.

Something near her shifted, and she yanked around, meeting face to face with a pair of eyes, half covered by long black hair and a pale bluish gray face. She opened her mouth and began to let out a scream, but an icy and terribly clamy hand siezed her by the jaw and yanked her in. Within seconds the screams stopped, and life continued to go on as if nothing had happened.

Hermione was brushing her hair in front of the mirror when the knock came to her door. She glanced at the clock and saw it was only 8:30 am. Her carpool shouldn't be there until another hour. Shrugging, she turned to the door and walked to it, pulling her hair in a ponytail along the way.

"Who is it?" she called as she walked.

"I hope zis eesn't a bad time..." came a voice. She gasped and ran to the door, throwing it open. A man with dark brown hair and dark eyes looked at her with a smile.

"Viktor!" she exclaimed and gave him a hug.

(sorry, but I don't know how to write with Viktor's accent so just pretend he has it as you read. I know, I'm pitiful.)

"Hello, Hermione," he said, kissing her cheek. She was overly excited that he could finally pronounce it right.

"Oh, gods, it's been so long!" She let go of him and stared at him for a minute, blushing a little. He had gotten very handsom over the years

"I was wondering if you had time for a latte before work?" She smiled and nodded.

"Sure! Let me just get my coat." She turned quickly and hurried over, throwing her coat on eagerly and then turning again to walk with him.

"Have you applied for a college yet?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered. "I'm going to a witching college in the states. It has a good reputation, and I've got a quidditch schollarship." Hermione smiled.

"That sounds great. Harry, Ron, and I are all going to the same college. We weren't exactly ready to get seperated yet."

"How is Harry Potter anyway? I haven't seen him since the triwizard tournament.

"He's doing much better now. Last year was rough, facing Voldemort and all, but we won, and he's had time to heal." She smiled to herself and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "In fact, he's been doing much better than I've ever seen since Voldemort died." Viktor smiled.

"That's good to hear. So many people have wondered what's become of him."

"He lives with the Weasleys now, just until we head off to college." She locked arms with him and smirked, leaning on his shoulder. "It's so good to see you again..."

"Hermione," said Richard as she stepped in. She looked up and he stepped up to her. "Have you seen Ginny at all today?" he asked. She shook her head.

"No, sir. She might have stayed home sick." Richard nodded.

"Well, she never showed up for work today. Can you fill in as a substitue for today?" Hermione shrugged.

"Sure. Where's the house?"

"I'll print you up an address." He signalled her to follow him, and he lead her to his desk where he placed a folder in front of her. She opened it, and inside was a photo of Hannah. "All you need to do is clean the house, and watch her. She has an injection you need to give her too once to get there." Hermione shuddered and nodded. The printer finished, and Richard reached over and handed her the piece of paper with the address. "I've been told she's fairly easy to take care of. Just a little stubborn sometimes. She suffers with and accute form of dementia." Hermione looked at him. "She sleeps through the day mostly, so she won't be a problem." Hermione nodded and left quietly, taking the address with her.

Finding the house was not much of a problem. She walked up to it and knocked on the door. No answer. She knocked again, but still had no answer. "Hello?" she called. "Ginny, girl, are you in there?" After waiting for about a minute, she turned the knob slowly and opened the door, surprised that it was unlocked. The lights inside were all turned off, and she flipped them on carelessly. She spotted the crumpled up rappers laying all over the floor and began to pick them up as the headed for Hannah's bedroom. "Hannah?" she called.

A scratching sound was her answer, and she walked over to the bedroom door, opening it slowly. An old hand grabbed her by the foot, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Hannah looked up at her from the floor, and Hermione realized she had probably fallen out of bed. She kneeled down quickly and helped her up. "Are you okay?" she asked softly. Hannah only stared, and Hermione checked her for broken bones.

(One month earlier...)

"This house gives me the creeps," muttered Lucy Chandler as she stepped in. Her husband, Rob, stepped in after her, followed by Hannah, who simply stared around blankly, never speaking once.

"The price is very good though," said Rob. "Tony would never give us a raw deal." Tony was their realestate agent, and had stepped in before them to look around. "And," added Rob. "There's a bedroom on the first floor, so Hannah doesn't have to climb the steps." Lucy nodded, but still shuddered at the thought of living there.

Tony came down with a smile on his face. "So what do you people think?" he asked.

"It's cozy," lied Lucy. "Who owned it before?"

"The Chang family from China. Lovely family, but I suspect the father had been a drunk, not that it's any of my bussiness." He coughed and nodded to the stairs. "Please, allow me to show you the upstairs rooms. Where's Hanna?" They glanced around.

"I think she went upstairs," said Rob. They all headed up, and Lucy found her in the third room, staring at the ceiling.

"Hannah, you know it's not good for you to climb the stairs," said Lucy. Hannah did not move, but stared intently at the ceiling. Tony watched as the two walked over to her to help her go back down the stairs. He told them he'd be down in a moment with the paper work, and turned to the bathroom, embarrassed that he had to go right at this moment. Shrugging it off, he stepped in and closed the door behind him.

When he turned from the door, he noticed for the first time that the bathtub was filled with water which stank and was black. He gagged and reached in there, feeling for the chain to the plug. His fingers found it, and he pulled it quickly. As the water began to lower with a loud gurgling noise, he spotted some black hair briefly float around the top and sink down again. He blinked and looked again. The hair skimmed by once again, and he reached in, gently lifting some out of the water. A had shot up and grabbed on to his arm and a woman's head poked out with a gasp and a shriek. He gave a shout and jumped back, banging his head on the wall. When he looked up, the water in the tub was gone and there was nothing there, no proof of the incident ever happening. He blinked several times before rising and heading back down the stairs, deciding to act like it had never happened incase it was just him loosing it.

The Chandler's closed on the house that day, and were able to spend the night there. When morning came, Rob Chandler found his wife sitting on the sofa, drinking her coffee. "Hey," he said with a grin as he sat down. "Did you sleep well?" She looked up at him and nodded with a smile. "I have your suit all done and pressed for you. It's sitting on top of the dryer." He smiled and kissed her cheek.

"You know me well," he said in a sultry voice. She kissed him, and began to stand up, taking him with her.

"C'mon. Let's go upstairs," she whispered, tugging on his hand. He looked at the living room clock and shook his head.

"I can't. I have to leave for work in a half hour," he said.

"Check your watch," she replied. He did and stared at it for a moment. "I set the clocks all ahead an hour lastnight while you were asleep." He glanced up at her and grinned.

"Maybe you know me a little too well." She chuckled and lead him upstairs and to their bedroom...

About three hours later, Hannah finally woke and Lucy went about, giving her her shot and making breakfast for her. After a while, Hannah went back to sleep, and Lucy sprawled on the couch with a book until she too conked out. She didn't wake until late in the afternoon and found Hannah sitting upright on her bed and crumpled up wrappers strewn all over the place.

She groaned, still groggy and shook her head. "If you want something you can ask," she said softly, but then stopped. There were wet footprints that lead out of the room and towards the stairs. She glanced at Hannah and saw she wasn't wet, but was staring in the dirrection the footprints lead.

Lucy turned slowly and followed them up the stairs and down the hall until they lead into the bathroom. She stepped inside and the door slammed and locked behind her.

Rob didn't come home till eight thirty that night, and he was in a good mood. Work had gone great, he got a promotion, and he and the guys were planning a poker night soon. "Lucy," he called as he hung his coat up. There was no answer. "Lucy, I'm home!" Still no answer. Not even the sounds of footsteps headed to the stairs. That was when he first began to realize something was wrong. He dropped his briefcase and ran up the stairs and into their bedroom. Lucy lay on the bed, panting in quick small breaths, staring wide eyed into space, and there were tears in her eyes. "Lucy!" he shouted and was at her side immediatly. "Lucy, what's wrong? Lucy!" She didn't answer, and he reached over for the phone to call for an ambulence. A little boy was standing there, naked with greyblue skin and large black circles around his eyes. He jumped with a shout and stared at him.

"What are you doing here?" he shouted. The boy didn't answer, and suddenly Lucy's breaths stopped altogether. "Lucy!" he shouted. He tried to run to her, but tripped and fell flat on his back. Pain siezed him, and he lay, slightly dazed until a face bent over his. It was the little boy's and he opened his mouth, emmiting a loud, earpiercing shreik like a cat's.

Hermione hung the last of the laundry on the close line, deciding it was too nice out to stay in and use the dryer. Hopefully the Chandlers wouldn't mind. Hannah sat perfectly still in a chair, looking around every so often, but never speaking. Hermione turned to her, looked her over and sighed.

"Isn't it nice out?" she asked, trying to sound friendly. Hannah made no response, and Hermione walked over to her with a bucket of warm water. She went into the house and soon came pack out with a wash cloth and a bar of soap to give Hannah her bath. There were no neighbors, and the backyard was fenced off so no one would see anyway. When she was done, she brought Hannah back in for a nap and sat on the sofa, turning on the TV.

A low moan came from above, and she muted the sound on the TV and waited, It came again, almost like a cat's, and she stood up and headed up the stairs, following the sound to the third room which was the master bedroom.

The meowing grew loud, completely strange for a cat, and she looked at the closet door where it seemed to be coming from.

There was tape all over the cracks which was a very strange sight for her. Who would tape a cat up in a closet? She reached up, pealing it all off, and throwing the door open. A black cat ran out with a hiss, making her yelp with surprise, and she glanced back in. There were a pair of eyes watching her, and she drew out her wand carefully.

"Lumos!" she whispered. The wand lit up, and sitting there, all huddled up was a little boy. There were bandages on his arms and a large one on his knee which had begun to get bled through. "Oh!" she gasped. She reached in and pulled him out, carrying him down the stairs and placing him on the sofa. She ran into another room and soon returned with a blanket and placed it around his shoulders. "Stay right here," she whispered. "I'm calling the police. What's your name?" He stared at her and did not answer. Hermione didn't wait and hurried to grab the phone, quickly calling up the police and her boss.

(A/N: I am terrible with breaking up chapters, so I'll just break it up as how much I got done that day. There are big spoilers from the Grudge, incase you haven't already figured that out. So don't yell at me for giving away stuff. You have been warned. Tootles!)


	2. The Stairwell

"What's your name?" asked Hermione to the little boy. He looked at her but didn't answer. "Please," she whispered. "Can you please tell me?" His gaze was cold and he nodded.

"Corry," he answered. She nodded. "And where are your parents?" Before he could answer, there came a rasping sound from Hannah's room. Hermione lept to her feet and ran to the room, throwing the door open and hurrying to Hannah's side. Hannah was sitting upright and gasping as if in fear.

"Hannah?" asked Hermione. Hannah looked at her with wide eyes, and Hermione kneeled down in front of her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Hannah, what's wrong?" Hannah looked at her, and spoke for the first time in months.

"I just want her to leave me alone!" she muttered.

"Who?" asked Hermione. Hannah nodded to the wall behind her, and she turned to look. There was a thick cloud of smoke, hovering a few feet off the ground and inching dangerously close to Hannah. It drifted past Hermione quickly, and floated over Hannah, emmiting a strange and unearthly noise that grew louder as Hannah's breathing grew harder. Hermione whipped out her wand and shouted, "Lumos!" Her wand lit up immediatly and a pair of eyes opened and looked at her. At that moment, Hannah took in a sharp breath and fell backwards on her bed, completely lifeless and with eyes glazed over.

Hermione didn't have time to see this for the smoke with eyes was coming closer to her, until at last she found herself slipping into darkness...

Richard broke in with two cops and they began searching the house. When Hermione had not responded after knocking and shouting several times, they knew something was terribly wrong.

"Hermione?" called Richard. "Where are you?" A muffled wail came from the room down the hall... Hannah's bedroom. Richard turned with one of the cops, and they headed into the bedroom, shuddering with every step. Hermione was huddled in a corner, shivering and staring at Hannah with large eyes.

"Hermione!" he muttered and kneeled down in front of her. "It'll be alright," he whispered. One of the cops examined Hannah and checked her for a pulse.

"She's dead," he said, glancing up at Richard. "She must've passed a few minutes ago. There's nothing I can do."

"Call and ambulence," demanded Richard. "I think she's going into shock," he said, pointing to Hermione. Hermione did not look at either of them, but kept her gaze on Hannah. They didn't get her to speak, nor did they find the little boy she had told them about. About an hour later, Hermione was taken to a hospital, but Richard lingered around with the police to learn what the cause of death had been.

"She was old," said one of the cops. "It hapens."

"She was only in her sixties. Isn't there any sign of a heart attack?"

"We won't know what really happened until the autopsy reports come in." He pulled out a note pad and a pen. "How long have you been in bussiness with this family?"

"Three weeks almost I think," he replied. "Ginny is the regular visitor though. I don't know where she is today. She never showed up at work."

"We're concerned because neither Rob nor Lucy Raddici showed to work either," said the cop. Richard's eyes widened a little.

"Have you attempted making any contact with this Ginny girl?"

"Yes," responded Richard. "She doesn't have a phone number, but Hermione's been trying to reach her all day." The cop raised an eyebrow.

"No phone?"

"None." The cop shrugged and started to walk away.

"Now what?" asked Richard. "What happens now?" The cop turned back to him.

"We're going to search the place, see if we can find anything."

"Mind if I look with you? Ginny is my employee after all." The cop shrugged.

"I see no harm in it." Richard smirked a little and they proceeded to scope the downstairs, not reaching the upstairs for some time. In secret, none of them had the desire to. Something about the house was beginning to give them the creeps.

Alas, the time came, and they found themselves climbing the steps and searching the hallway. Richard strayed into the master bedroom and found that the bed sheets had been ripped away and shredded all over the floor. There were a few drops of blood that weren't visible unless you really leaned in to look for them. Richard only happened to notice them on accident.

Heavy footfalls came up the stairs, and Richard turned to see one of the cops come in. "We checked the answering machine," he said to the other cop. "Rob's sister called twice today and didn't get a hold of them. She sounds worried."

"Where's the phone?" asked the other cop. "I didn't see it on the receiver." The cop walked down the hallway and leaned over the stairs.

"Can you please press the locator button on the phone receiver," he called to someone below. They waited and soon there came a muffled beeping sound. Richard's ears pricked up and he looked around. The beeping was coming from the closet, and both cops ran to the door before he could. When the first cop's fingertips brushed against the wood, he shuddered and pulled back, hesitating before even reaching for it again.

The door slid open easily, and a shriek greeted them as a black furball leapt out and ran down the hall. They cops snickered for a moment, and turned back to the closet to look inside. Richard was the first to notice the attic entrance, which was open this time.

"Wonder what's up there," he said to the cop next to him. They glanced up and without a word, they climbed through, shinning their flashlights all around.

"What smells?" said one with a gag. Richard didn't smell it until he had climbed through and crawled around a little. When it did hit, he chocked and held his breath. The odor was overbearing and made him want to vomit.

"Hey, look over here!" said one of the cops. They turned and Richard looked closely at the two bodies on the floor. One had its head in the others lap and they both had started to change colors. He sighed and lowered his head. They found Rob and Lucy. He looked back at the other cop who seemed to have the same look of disappointment on his face. "I'll call for another ambulance," he said remorsefully. "And someone make sure Rob's sister gets the word of what's happened and... whoa!" Richard looked in the cop's direction, and saw he was staring in amazement at something laying on the ground. "Who does that belong to?"

Moving closely, Richard peered over his shoulder and gagged again. A raw and bleeding jaw lay smack dab in the middle of the floor...

Hermione woke in a hospital bed the next day with a throbbing headache and few memories of the previous night. Her body ached from the hard mattress and she was freezing. Sitting up was painful, and she groaned loudly in pain. Viktor, who had been sitting unnoticed in the chair near the bed, stood up and sat down on the bed, next to her. It took her a moment to think clearly, and when she did she said nothing, but allowed him to hug her comfortingly.

"Your boss told me what happened," he said softly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm in pain," she muttered, rubbing her soar back. "Have you been here all night?"

"Ever since I recieved the call at eleven last night."

"Did they say anything else?" she asked curiously.

"Not really, why?" She rubbed her forehead and flinched in pain.

"I don't really remember what happened..."

"Hannah died in her sleep," said Viktor. He had no idea of how to break it to her gently, so he just broke it. Hermione nodded though, seeming to remember that a little. "The police think you went into shock when you found her..."

"Wait," she said suddenly as things began to come back to her. "In her sleep... is that what they're saying happened to her?" Viktor stared at her for a minute.

"Yes. Why?"

A brief memory of a ghostly black mist came to her mind. "I don't know," she whispered. "Something... I saw something last night. All I can remember is that the entire time I was there, something felt wrong. Something about that house was all wrong." Viktor nodded, deciding she was still coming to, and gave her another hug to comfort her.

Kelly Raddici sat at her desk, nervously dialing numbers on her cell phone and waiting for the ring tone. This was the seventh try that day, and still there was no word from her brother or sister-in-law. A chill ran down her spine each time she dialed, almost as though she were connecting with something unearthly on the other side. She waited impatiently until the answering machine picked up again, and she sighed, deciding to leave yet another message.

"Hello, Rob? Are you there? It's Kelly. You can reach me at work or at your cell phone. I'm a little worried about you and Lucy..." She sighed and shook her head helplessly. "Just give me a call as soon as you can. Bye." She hung up and leaned back in her seat. If she had to call that house one more time...

She didn't care how many times her brother told her it was just superstition. There was something very wrong with their new house, but she could not put her finger on it.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw something, or someone, run past her at an alarming speed, and she jumped with a yelp as an icy chill came with it. She was on her toes, and looked around nervously, checking to make sure she was alone. Nothing she saw could convince her that she really was. 'I need to get some sleep,' she thought to herself. 'Staying up this late every night is getting to me, that's all... that's all.'

The lights in her office began to flicker, and she grabbed her things and headed out incase they went out. She made a mental note to tell the janitor to replace the bulbs so she wouldn't be left in the dark the next day. Stepping into the hallway only made her feel worse. The enclosed walls of her office felt far more safer than this long open hallway. 'Control yourself!' she scolded herself. Holding her head up high, she began to walk down the hall as casually as she could.

Each step she took seemed to echoe louder until it sounded like a whole different set of footsteps were following her. She stopped, taking a deep breath, and turned around to look. There was nothing there, and she continued on, quickening her pace until she was almost running. About fifteen seconds later, she was sure someone was chasing her, and she ran down the hall and ran through the first door she could find.

When the door slammed, it echoed loudly through the room, and she scrambled to find a light switch. She was in the stairwell, and it was even colder in there than it was outside. If anyone was chasing her, they could easily take the elevator and beat her to whatever floor. She sighed and turned back to the door, deciding that if she moved quickly, she could reach the security office which was right across the hall from that room.

RIIIIING!!! RIIIIING!!!

Kelly nearly jumped out of her skin, and reached into her pocket, pulling out a cellphone. The caller ID read: Raddici, Robert, and she sighed with relief as she answered it. "Rob!" she said before he could talk. "Where the hell are you-" she was cut off by a low noise that grew louder and louder until she dropped the phone. It sounded like an extended croak on the other end, but when she dropped the phone, she realized that the sound was coming from inside as well. Looking up, she could see the lights on the top floor were flickering on and off like mad. She backed against the wall, trembling, and glanced down on the stairs. A body lay there, long black hair completely covering its face and skinny arms moving irregularly like a robot's, making it crawl up the stairs in a strange manner. The sound grew louder, and Kelly screamed, turning to run out the door.

She was halfway through the doorway when something grabbed on to her purse. Turning around she saw, what looked like, a chineese woman, her slitted eyes opened widely, and blueish grey skin. Her mouth was wide open and projecting the unearthly sound, and she was clinging on to Kelly's purse with a vicious grip. Kelly screamed even louder, and ran, dropping her purse, right into the security office and bumping into the guard.

"...in... there!" she panted, pointing across the hall. The guard stared at her curiously. "Something... in... there! Something strange! Something very strange!" The guard nodded and had her sit down while he grabbed his flashlight and made ready to search the hallway. Kelly moved over to the security monitors for that floor and watched them closely. A minute or so went by when she finally spotted the guard, walking down the hall casually, but then stopping and turning to the door to the stairwell with a curious look on his face. Kelly bit her lip and waited, wringing her hands into a tight knot. About a minute later, the guard stepped out and continued down the hall, perfectly alright.

Kelly took in a deep breath and struggled to composed herself. A flickering light got her attention, and she looked back up at the monitors. The lights were flickering wildly until they stopped, glowing brighter than they should have. Then, right where the door to the stairwell was, a black smoke seeped out and rose slowly, taking the shape of a woman, but staying completely black so absolutely no features could be made out. Kelly watched nervously as the ghostly figure staggered closer and closer to the screen.

That was enough for her, and she rose to her feet, running out of the building and catching a cab as fast as she could. Nothing strange happened to her the entire ride, and by the time she was on the elevator, riding to the 10th floor, she was almost breathing normally again. She went into her room, trying to calm herself still, and humming a tune to help her feel better. Inside, her phone was ringing, and she ran to answer, just in time.

"H-hello?"

"Kelly? It's Rob."

She took in a deep breath and smiled. "Rob!" she gasped. "Where are you?"

"My wife and I were out of town. Anyway, I thought I'd drop by and see you. What floor are you on? I can't remember."

"The tenth floor," she muttered. "Room sixteen. I'll buzz you up." She reached over and pressed the button on the wall and waited. Almost immediately there came a knock at the door, and she turned, a little startled. How did Rob get up there that fast?

Something made her tense, and she walked over to the door, looking through the peep-hole. There was Rob, standing there with a casual smile on his face. It still seemed strange, but she shrugged and opened the door. "Rob," she growled. "I don't know what you're trying to pull, but-"She stopped. Rob was gone. There was no one standing there and she glanced down the hallway. A loud noise began to echo through the hall, and she jumped, glancing down at the phone still in her hand. The lights began to flicker, and she dropped the phone, running into her bedroom and jumping onto her bed, wrapping the bed sheets tightly around her.

There was nothing for the longest time, only the hammering of her heart in her chest. Even though everything around her told her she was safe, she refused to get out of the security of her bed. She felt like a little kid who's just had the nightmare of a lifetime. Something brushed against her bare feet. It felt icy and prickly like a thousand sharp icicles. She began to tremble, and forced herself to peer over the edge of the bed to see what was happening.

A lump under the covers was making its way to her, a lump big enough to be a body. She screamed as it climbed on top of her and the noise began to echo again. Reaching with trembling hands, she lifted up the bed sheets and a face looked at her. It was the same one from the stairwell. She screamed, but to no avail. The woman grabbed her by the legs and dragged her down, through her bed, and into the fires of hell itself.

Once again, the world continued on, never noticing she was missing...


	3. Ginny makes five

(A/N: For some reason I just thought of that song by System of a down:

"_Father, into your hands I commit my spirit_

_Father, into your hands why have you forsaken me?  
In your heart forsaken me_

_In your thoughts forsaken me_

_In your eyes forsaken me..._

_I cry when angels deserve to die..."_

Kind of ironic. Okay, on with the chapter.)

Richard slipped into the dark house, silently, hoping he would not be noticed. Ever since Hannah's sudden death and the discovery of both Rob and Lucy's bodies, the place had stayed almost completely deserted. After seeing the bodies for himself the day before, the house had seemed a lot more eerie, almost as though it was haunted...

He snorted and shook his head. Hauntings were made up mumbo-jumbo that people with nothing better to do talk about on a regular basis. At least, that's how he viewed it. There were no such things as ghosts, spirits, zombies, monsters, aliens, or non-fat burgers from Macdonald's. He believed that when you died, that was it. The end, end of story. No return whatsoever.

Walking down the halls was still a nerve racking experience for him though. Over the years, Richard had attempted to convince himself of many things, but some things had yet to be proven in order for him to believe. As the fear grew inside of him, he began to wonder why he had even come here to begin with?

Ginny. Yes, that was it. The Weasleys had called him twice already, demanding to know where the hell their daughter was. Not knowing was the worst feeling for him, especially when he had to repeatedly tell them that. "I don't know. She just vanished." It sounded so wrong to him. People don't just vanish into thin air. They just don't. After the bodies had been discovered, along with the jaw, he began to wonder if she was in the house somewhere. There was no doubt in his mind that if she wasn't then she was probably off taking care of herself and Molly Weasley was simply overreacting. However, if she still was inside of the house, he didn't hold much hope for her. Three people had already died mysteriously in there, and the best conclusion he could come to was it was some teens trying to pull a sick prank that got out of hand.

He knew that the teens in the area knew the stories about the house as well as anyone. They probably had heard a lot of things, and had pulled something that lead Rob, Lucy, and Hannah into fear great enough to send them into shock and eventually death.

If there was anyplace Ginny would be, assuming she was still in there, it would be in the upstairs. The phone had been dropped up there suspiciously, and he remembered talking to her right before she supposedly vanished. Unless, of coarse, if Hermione had used the phone, which would have changed things a bit. Something inside told him that she had not touched the phone, mainly because of the fact that they had found a message left on the answering machine.

Taking in a deep breath, he began to make his way up the stairs, shinning a flashlight down the halls. As he walked by the master bedroom, he felt a chill ripple down his spine, and he turned around to look. There was nothing in there that he could see, but he stepped in anyway. It'd be best to search this room now and get it over with. The shredded bed sheets had been cleaned off the floor, and the windows has been boarded up. A black cat sat on the floor, licking its paw, and he thought of when Ginny had mentioned seeing one. It was also, probably, the same one who had leapt out of the closet the other day. He stared at it for a moment and sighed.

"You sure seem to be giving people a hell of a lot of bad luck." The cat looked up at him and hissed, running away quickly. Richard snickered a little and turned back to the closet. He opened it and crawled through, into the attic. It was completely empty. The bodies had been taken away, along with the jaw, which was to be tested for dental records. As far as they knew, it didn't belong to any of the Raddici family since their jaws were still in place. He scoped the area for a long time before he finally gave up and turned back to the stairs.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and he got up, heading to the stairs to see a young woman with red hair making her way down them. She was staggering in a very strange way, leaning over unnaturally to one side with one step, and with the other, leaning in the over direction. It was almost as if she had no knees at all. He couldn't see her face, and when she turned to head down the second flight of stairs, her face was shadowed so he still couldn't see it. The clothes she was wearing were familiar to him, and he noticed the purse that seemed to dangle carelessly off her shoulder.

"Ginny?" he asked softly. She continued down the stairs and down the hallway. Richard followed her silently as she came to a second set of stairs that lead to the basement. It wasn't a dark and musty place. The Raddici's had made sure that it was redone before moving. Even the stairs had been redone and carpeted making them easier to climb down.

Richard walked over to the top of the stairs and noticed something dripping off one of the banisters. It was blood, most likely Ginny's. "Ginny?" he called a little louder. "What happened to you?" She stopped for a second, and looked up. He noticed for the first time how torn and ratty her hair was. The sleeves on her shirt were torn and blood flowed down her arms. Her jeans were torn up even worse. Her head moved shakily from side to side, almost like a robot when it malfunctions. Slowly, she turned so she was facing him, her head had dropped back down though, and her face was shadowed. From the front, she looked even more mangled, and he began to feel nervous. A silent voice was screaming in his head for him to run, and a red light seemed to go off. Still he stayed. She was his employee and he couldn't just leave her here.

Ginny slowly picked her head up and looked at him. What Richard saw made him loose his lunch all over the stairs. Ginny's lower jaw had been ripped off, chin and everything, and her tongue dangled down her chest. That alone gathered all his attention, and he didn't even notice her broken hand, her bloody nose, or the alarmingly large gash on her right knee. She stared a him, wailing loudly and unearthly, and he lost consciousness.

Hermione sat in a library, typing rapidly on the computer, putting in search engine after search engine, until at last she found a site with old newspaper articles. It had occurred to her, long before she was let out of the hospital that something about the house would be in the news if this had happened before. She was one hundred and ten percent convinced that something was haunting it, no matter what Richard told her. Strangely enough, there was nothing posted right away on the site about the house, or even about the strange sudden deaths of the Raddici family. She had to go back three years before she found anything.

There was an old picture of the house posted on there, along with the family who had lived there before the Raddici's. The family consisted of a husband, wife, son, and a cat. Hermione stared at the photos of the family and nearly fell over. The little boy in the photo, Corry Chang, was the exact same boy she had found taped up in the closet.

"What the?" she muttered. She scrolled down and read the article. The husband had apparently drowned his wife after beating her, followed by the boy, and somewhere in that timeframe, the cat also. She sat back and placed a hand over her mouth. It was too terrible. Who the hell would even do this and still live with himself? She read on and soon learned that that was not the case. About a day later the husband committed suicide in the same bathtub.

Something tapped her seat, and she nearly jumped a mile high. "Whoa!" said a familiar voice. "Easy there. You startle too easily." Hermione turned and her jaw dropped.

"Harry!" she cried and gave him a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," he said with a smirk. "I kind of figured I would find you here."

"I haven't seen you in weeks!" she said softly. "What's new?"

"I came to tell you something," he said, his voice becoming graver. Hermione's smile faded and she looked at him.

"What's wrong?" she asked. Harry paused for a moment and then spoke. This was going to be harder to say than he had originally thought.

"Ginny's been found," he said softly. Hermione's eyes widened.

"Is she alright? Where is she?" Harry paused again.

"They're burying her in two days. She's dead."

It took a minute for Hermione to grasp that. For a while she thought she hadn't heard him right. Ginny dead? It couldn't be true.

"What? How? When? Where did they find her?"

"Richard was the first to find her, I think," he muttered. "His body was found along with hers. They've been murdered." Hermione's jaw nearly hit the floor.

"Where did they find them?" demanded Hermione.

"In some old house..."

"The house?!" she nearly screamed. "What is with that house? That makes five victims now. Five!"

"Calm down," muttered Harry.

"Are you sure?" asked Hermione as the tears finally came. Harry nodded and gave her a hug.

"Oh, Hermione," he muttered and she began to sob.


	4. Gasoline

Snape was sitting at his desk when Hermione first arrived. He was a little surprised to see her there, especially since she had graduated. Working to prepare for the school year had made him tired, and he wished to send her away. But then he saw the look on her face, fear mixed with pain, and he wondered what would have driven her far enough to see him.

"Miss Granger?" he asked casually. She looked at him and forced a smirk,

"Professor, I need to talk to you," she muttered. He raised an eyebrow.

"About what?" Hermione struggled to figure out what she wanted to say. There were so many things on her mind, and she wondered how to say it all at once.

"Ginny," she blurted after a minute.

"What about her?"

"She won't be coming back this year..." She stopped and he nodded.

"Yes," he said nodding cooly. "I heard."

"I need to ask you if you know anything about it?" He shook his head.

"I heard her body was found along with someone else's in a house that's been abandoned for a while..."

"The house," she growled under her breath. "It's that house. That damn house..." She stopped for a moment to compose herself and looked at him again. "I wanted to know if you had any explanation for it?" He stared at her curiously.

"Why are you coming to me with something like this?" he asked.

"I know for a fact you know a lot about dark arts. I figured you could tell me what was happening." She sighed and leaned against the door frame. "I know it has something to do with that house, but I can't put my finger on it. I think it's haunted."

Snape leaned back for a moment, seeming to be thinking about something. He sighed and pulled open a drawer from his desk, removing some newspapers from it. Standing up, he walked over to her and placed them in her hands. "I was going to give these to Dumbledore," he explained. "Two bodies in the same house, and then an entire family wiped out without a discovered cause. I knew something sounded wrong. So I looked up that house."

Hermione flipped through the newspapers and found the same articles on the family who lived there.

"I already know that the father drowned everyone and killed himself later," she said softly. "I would say it was their ghosts haunting it, but they were muggles. All of them."

"Miss Granger, have you not heard the legend of a muggle grudge?" he asked cooly. She shook her head.

"No, sir."

"It's been said it's only a myth," he muttered. "But I know it isn't. The so-called myth says that whenever a muggle dies within the grip of extreme anger or suffering they leave behind a curse. It doesn't forgive, and it never forgets. Anyone who gets caught in it cannot escape it."

"How do you know the myth is true?" she asked curiously. He walked over and pointed to a headline that had been written about a week ago.

"That man," he said, pointing to the photo. "Something drove him to the point of insanity. His wife states right here that he had gone the day before to deliver something to that house. When he returned he wasn't the same. The next morning she awoke to see him throw himself out the window."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Whoa," she muttered. "Hey, I know that apartment," she whispered, looking at it closer. "I passed it the day I went to..." she stopped and nodded, not really wanting to finish her sentence.

"You've been in there?" he asked. Hermione nodded, knowing she'd never be able to lie in front of him without him seeing right through it. He turned and walked away a few steps, not facing her. "So have I," he muttered. "I came to see Ginny's body. I felt like I was being watched."

"So did I," said Hermione with a shudder. "And I saw something, or someone in there."

"Death was in that house, Miss Granger," said Snape as he turned to look at her. "Anyone who enters there, whether it be through stepping in the doorway, or even calling into it on the phone, they are cursed."

"Isn't there a counter? There has to be."

"There's no counter curse to death." She stepped back, her face devoid of any color. Her hands were shaking terribly. "I'm sorry," he muttered. She nodded and left without saying another word.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" asked Harry. They were on a bus, trying to get home faster, rather than shuffle through the crowds on the streets. Hermione nodded, but she was lying. She was not alright, nor did she think anyone would be if they learned they were going to die. Her eyes strayed to the window, and she saw herself. Her face was still pale, and dark circles had begun to form under her eyes from not sleeping. Then, her eyes seemed to change, becoming more slitted than normal, it took her a minute, but she soon saw it was a different face she was staring at. A chineese woman with her eyes opened terribly wide and her mouth stretched open, creating a horrid sound that scared her. She jumped and looked away, still feeling the eyes boring into her.

"Hermione?" whispered Harry. She shook her head as tears began to fall.

"Dae profundus clama ad te domine," she whispered.

(translation: out of the depths I cry to you, oh God.)

Snape stepped into the abandoned house. Things had gone too far this time. By the end of the week, he and Granger would be two more dead victims of the curse if he did nothing. Even though he told her there was no counter, he thought of something. If there was no house standing, the curse could not continue its coarse. He carried with him, two large containers, filled to the top with gasoline. All he had to do was burn down the house and it'd all be over. The house seemed so much darker that day, and he was even trembling with anxiety as he took off the top of one of the containers.

"This ends now," he muttered. Bang!

Something crashed upstairs, and he poked his head up. There was the sound of splashing and struggling, and he jumped to his feet, running up the stairs. Something was wrong, and he wanted to know what. Running quickly, he barged into the upstairs bathroom, the only room where the splashing sound could have been made.

A boy was on his knees, bent over the edge of the tub, his head in the water and making no movement. Snape gave a shout, and pulled the boy out, holding him in his arms and shaking him. The boy lay there, eyes closed and his body completely still. Snape began to panic. What sort of sick person would try to drown a kid in the bathtub?

Just when he was about to give up and call for an ambulence, the boys eyes snapped open. And icy chill surged down Snape's spine and he jumped back. Those eyes... he had seen them before... The newspaper article came to mind, and he realized it was the same boy from the family. The one who was supposed to be dead.

Something struck him violently in the back of the head, and he was forced down into the water and held there until his body stopped fighting and he went completely limp...

Hermione stepped into her apartment, tired and ready to sleep, probably never to wake up. She wondered how Snape was doing. The green light was blinking on her answering machine, and she pushed the button to play the message. It was Viktor.

"Hermione? Are you there? I've been worried about you. Did you go back to the house? I'm going to head over there right now to find you. Take care." BEEP!

Hermione's stomach hit the floor, and she whipped around, taking her coat with her, and ran out the door and into the night.

(A/N: ooooh! Perfect place to end it. Sorry, but y'all have to wait till tomorrow to know what happens. Well, those of you who've already seen the movie know what happens, but for those of you who don't, mwa! hahahaha! Now I know what true power feels like...

But, I already have the next part typed up. I could post it today as well, if you begged me...

From Smeagol's (evil but cute so deal with it) girl.)


	5. Flames

(A/N: Sorry if I sounded a little full of myself with my last note. I got a little to into it. Here's the next chapter. I love you all! Really, you're all just beautiful to me! Drinks all around! I also would really encourage you to read some of my other stuff if you haven't already. Especially 'The Curse of Abel Frye.' I want the reviews so desperately. Who doesn't like getting them? 'Demon of the Well' has been a really good one, from what I've been told, but it's a one-shot, so please stop asking me to update. The story's done. You don't need to have seen The Ring to understand it either. Alright, on with it now...)

The house was completely dark when Hermione finally reached it. There was no sign of Viktor, or anyone for that matter. She could only pray that she was not too late. When she turned on the lights, she was a little surprised to find the two large containers of gasoline. What the heck was that all about?

There were footsteps on the stairs, and she began to run in their direction. "Oh, please!" she whispered to herself. "Please don't let me be too late!" But when she reached the top of the stairs, there were no signs of anyone. The place, for once, felt completely empty. A light shined through the window, sunlight, and she blinked. Why was the sun coming out already?

A man walked out from one of the rooms, and wandered down the hallway. He looked familiar to her, and she watched him silently, a little surprised that he didn't seem to notice her. It took a minute, but then in the back of her mind, she remembered reading one of the articles Snape had placed in her hands. That was Jeff Richerdson, the man who had committed suicide a week ago!

"What are you doing here?" she whispered. He didn't respond, and she soon realized that perhaps he couldn't see or hear her. There was a hint of fear on his face which made her feel curious. Down the hall, the little boy who was supposed to be dead, peaked out from the bathroom. Jeff turned to him, shaking his head and signaled him to go back.

"Just wait right there," he said softly. "I'm going to call the police and find your parents." Hermione stared at the little boy, knowing he wasn't real. Jeff, however didn't know this, and she could already tell something bad was going to happen. The boy slipped back into the bathroom without a word, and Jeff walked down the hallway, stopping by the master bedroom and looking in.

Not really knowing what else to do, Hermione followed him and watched as he looked around the room, curiously. There was a journal laying on the floor, and he picked it up, thumbing through it slowly. Hermione snuck up behind him and read over his shoulder. The diary had been written by the boy's mother, who was also dead.

"..._I've fallen in love with a man who doesn't even know I exist..._

..._He's so handsome and wonderful. I wish I could be with him..._

..._Jeff Richerdson..._"

Jeff's eyes widened, and he started flipping through the pages. Every single one had the words 'Jeff Richerdson' written over and over again, surrounded with hearts. It was almost as if he were reading a teenaged girl's diary. There were photos of him in there as well. She had stalked him almost every time she had seen him.

Hermione leaned in a little closer to look, but Jeff dropped the diary and turned to the closet door. There was several pieces from photographs on there, and he moved closer to see them better. They were her face, all of them. They had been cut out and thumb tacked to the wall. Whoever had done it was obviously furious with her. Hermione stepped up next to him and looked with shock. This woman had been obsessing over him, what had her husband thought when he found out?

The room grew cold, and the light faded. She looked to the side, but Jeff was no longer there. The photo heads on the closet door were gone as well. It had all been a vision. Hermione shuddered and suddenly remembered why she was there. Viktor was still in the house somewhere and she had to save him if she could.

A faint moan got her attention, and she turned to face the doorway, seeing a shadow moving slowly down the hall. Her heart went to her throat, and she looked around the enclosed room. Whatever was there could get her now, and she'd have no way of escape. The moan was heard again, and she felt her skin crawl. Her mind was reeling and her imagination took over, filling her head with gruesome thoughts of what could and probably would happen now. She'd turn and someone would be there, ready to gut her. Or she could step into the hallway and whoever was there would leap out of the shadows to get her and that would be the end. Facing a ghost was far more horrifying to her than facing a monster. You could kill monsters, but there's no way to stop a ghost from existing.

Gathering what little courage she still had, she stepped slowly out into the hallway and looked around. There was nothing there, but a faint light coming from the bathroom. Again she heard the moan and ran in that direction, quickly deciding she had nothing left to lose. Viktor was on the floor, eyes wide opened and breathing heavily. He looked at her and tried to speak, but couldn't. He was dying. Hermione ran to him and started to pick him up when she looked at the tub. Sunlight suddenly filled the room, and visions from the past started to play out in front of her. The Chinese woman was bent over, filling the tub and humming to herself when her enraged husband barged in, her diary in his hands. A black cat ran into the room, meowing nervously, and the little boy ran in front of his mother, ready to protect her.

The husband picked up the cat, who didn't even fight back, and snapped its neck, tossing him mercilessly into the tub, which was now ready to overflow. He then grabbed his wife, who was cowering in front of him and pleading for her life. She was thrown at the tub, and he held her there, head in the water, while their son sat huddled in a corner, unable to do anything. The husband turned to him once the wife had stopped fighting, and grabbed the son...

The vision ended there, and Hermione was left, tears threatening to blind her. Viktor's rasping became worse, and she threw one arm over her shoulder and began to carry him down the stairs. There was a crash, just as they were on the last step, and she saw a body throw itself on the ground. It was the woman, only she didn't look so helpless now. Her arms were terribly thin, and her eyes were bulging out. Her mouth was stretched wide open, the low grumbling noise echoing loudly in the room.

Hermione screamed, and dragged Viktor, none too gently, down the stairs, and started to drag him towards the door. He was too heavy, and she could barely move him. Her eyes strayed up to the steps, and the woman was climbing down to them on all fours, an icy chill flooding the room with each movement. Hermione tried to drag Viktor, but her body had suddenly tired out, and the growing fear was consuming here, killing her from inside. She could feel herself physically dying.

Hermione fell back, too afraid to even try to drag Viktor away now, and the woman stumbled down the rest of the stairs, proceeding to crawl on top of Viktor. Hermione kicked at her, trying to kick her off, but her grip was too tight on him. Viktor's eyes suddenly widened even more, and he moved up a few inches, breathing in quick small breaths, and then fell backwards, dead. The woman's head turned to Hermione, and she felt the urge to just let herself be taken. There was no point in trying to fight now. She could never win. Not unless...

Her head snapped to the side and she spotted the containers of gasoline she had seen when she first stepped in. Much to her luck, one of them already had the top off, and she kicked it over. Reaching over into Viktor's pockets, she pulled out a cigarette lighter, and fought with it till it lit. A hand grabbed onto her arm, trying to stop her, and she looked over to see the woman's face in hers, ready to kill her. Hermione sneered at her, and tossed the light at the gasoline that had started to run all over the floor. Flames immediately lept up, and the woman gave a wail of anger. Hermione sat back, completely exhausted now, and just watched as the woman crawled onto her with the same look in her eyes. She soon wasn't visible as the smoke and flames surrounded them.

(A/N: It's not over yet... There's still the final chapter...)


	6. The Morgue

Two cops stood outside the hospital morgue, talking in hushed tones so they wouldn't be heard by any patients walking by.

"We found them both in the fire," said one cop. "It's so terrible." A door down the hall opened, and a nurse walked through, escorting a young woman with burns on her face and arms. It was Hermione.

"How the hell did she survive that?" asked one of the cops.

"No one knows," said the other. "It's a miracle." The nurse led Hermione to the door to the morgue, and they stepped in. The nurse soon stepped back out, closing the door behind her and left Hermione alone. "The fire was very back," continued the cop. "We think the guy we found in there was her boyfriend. He didn't survived."

"Oh, Lord," muttered the other cop.

"We saved the house though..."

Hermione stood in front of the bed where a body lay with the sheet drawn over it. Her eyes filled with tears, and she gently reached a hand out to pull the sheet back and see the face. The blanket suddenly shifted, and a hand reached up and grabbed her by the arm. She gave a yelp and jumped hack, and the arm hung limp over the edge. It was Viktor's.

She sighed and closed her eyes, trembling. At least it was over now, she kept telling herself. She stepped back, but felt herself bump into something. It felt icy cold and prickly like thousands of needles. She stood still, her face draining of color, and the room felt colder than ever. The growling noise started low, but gradually grew louder, and she slowly turned around to see long black hair, white skin and...

(A/N: W-b-b-b-b-b-th-that's all folks! Hehehehe. Please R&R.)


End file.
